You'd Be Fine Without Me
by Weasley Twins2
Summary: George Weasley has always felt like nothing more than the clone of his twin brother Fred Weasley. With Fred dating Angelina Johnson, he feels more unwanted than ever before; that is why he is currently sitting at the top of Hogwarts tallest tower, watching the rain and considering how much better everybody, including Fred would be without him. Warning: mentions of self-harm.


_Weasley Twins2 here, this amazing fic has been written by my brilliant beta reader Weasley Twins3! A second chapter is in the works and I'm also nearly done with revisions to the first seven chapters of Forever and Always._

I like the rain. I really do. Despite so many people telling me that rain was depressing, that it was cold and dark and miserable, I still loved it. I found the good in it. The way it made the air smell clean, how it washed away dirt and left raindrop streaks on windows… It was comforting. I suppose that was why I chose to be here in the rain now, when I felt my most vulnerable.

I found myself sitting in the tall window sill in the tallest tower here at Hogwarts, watching the clouds up above as the rain poured down outside. Everyone was out at Hogsmeade for the day, enjoying their free time. Yet here I was: sitting alone at the castle, watching as the rain fell from the clouds above and watered the grass of the quidditch pitch.

It normally calmed me. The rain was my solace whenever I felt as though I didn't matter. Whenever I felt as if the world was better off without me. Today, however, the rain brought no comfort.

My twin, my other half… my _better_ half… was on a date. With Angelina Johnson, the girl who hurt my heart. I never held a torch for her, I had thought that she was pretty and had asked her on a date the second day back to hogwarts this year seeing as this was our fifth year of school... Her response, however, was what hurt me. "Why would I date _you,_ George? You're the clone. I wouldn't date the lesser copy when I can have the better original." And she had flicked her hair and walked away. The next day she had marched up to Fred and asked him out. He had looked over at me, and I had stared at the table. Then he agreed. I hadn't said a word to him about me asking her or her response. After that moment, I had decided I never would.

That in itself wasn't unusual. The jealousy wasn't either. The fact that my twin hadn't spoken to me in two months, since Angelina asked him out: _that_ was unusual. It was all because she asked him to as well. She would whine that he wasn't spending enough time with her, and he would immediately drop what he was doing and follow her wherever she led him. It didn't matter what he was doing or who he was with. With other friends, at quidditch practice, at detention… With me. It didn't matter. Fred was too busy following her to notice how I had started to downward spiral into myself.

People had never taken notice when I was upset or hurt. It was almost as though no one cared… Except for Fred. Fred was my best friend, my twin, and even when people only looked to him to represent us both, he looked to me and made sure that what I had to say got heard. Whenever I felt sad or lonely, my twin was there by my side to help me feel better. At least, that was how it was before Angelina. Now, Fred doesn't look to me at all, and nobody wants to hear what I have to think or say. It didn't bother me so much at first, I had been used to it after all: always coming last in everybody else's world. I was used to being cut off mid-sentence because what someone else had to say was more important. But being shut out of Fred's world affected me more than I could ever have dreamed. It hurt.

I never knew how little people cared for me until Fred had left my side. With him, our friends followed. It was clear to anyone with eyes who the favourite twin was. I couldn't blame them either. I struggled to live up to the expectations that any of my brothers had set. I was neither impressive or smart like Bill or Charlie, didn't have good grades like Percy, was neither charming or as witty as Fred, and didn't have the benefit of being the youngest, like Ron. In short: I am neither significant or needed. Easily lived without.

Two weeks after my twin left me alone for Angie, and I had developed several habits to try and deal with my anxiety by myself. I had stopped eating. I felt like the control over when I did and didn't eat helped me. I'd started biting my bottom lip, making my lips chapped. The biggest relief came from physical pain. It had started with me digging my nails into the palms of my hands when I clenched my fists to keep from saying what was in my heart. I eventually broke skin and realized how the painful throbbing in my hands distracted my mind from my aching heart. It soon progressed to my arms: digging my nails into them and leaving scratches and red marks that would last for days. I wore long sleeves and jumpers since it was cold anyway, and it wasn't like anyone cared enough to notice anyway. Although I was forced to stop wearing Fred's jumpers when Angelina demanded that he let her borrow his… specifically whichever one of his I had been wearing that day.

When two weeks turned into a month I sought a deeper release, and before long I had been taking the pocket knife left to me from my uncle, Fabian Prewett, and using it to cut shallow marks into the tops of my thighs. Those left marks that I knew would scar until I applied a healing salve, and served to remind me how selfish and idiotic I really am. Had I been less of a coward I would have _sliced_ my arm. I never had been the Gryffindor that people expected me to be.

I sighed and felt my chest tighten as I gazed out as the scenery before me. I didn't want to feel this. I didn't want to worry about my twin or about anyone else. I came here not to worry, to not feel. But I can't help it. It hurts too much not to feel this way. I lifted my gaze to the dark clouds above, and let the hurt be numbed as my cheeks became damp. I wish I could blame that on the rain this time, but they were too warm to be from the sky.

The first few tears fell down my face slowly, but as a sob ripped through my mouth I lost control and was crying openly. I brought my knees up to my chest, hugging them as I brought my head down and let it all out of my system. The tears were hot as they streamed down my face. I hadn't cried this hard since our mother had skipped us at Christmas when we were six. She had claimed that our prank on our brother, Percy, two days prior had warranted us not getting gifts. I had lied and said that I acted alone, and so she gave Fred _both_ of the gifts and ordered he not share with me. It had been hard. Fred had been so upset that I didn't get a gift and that he got both but couldn't share, so he didn't open either of them until our mum forgot about my being punished and he had us open them at the same time a month later.

Percy hadn't been as forgiving. He had been under the impression that it had been me the entire time and had _framed_ Fred. He eventually came to realize that wasn't really the case, but the time leading up to that point was particularly hard. Percy had told on just me for anything Fred and I did. It seemed as though I was always the one getting Fred into trouble. Hell, years later and I was _still_ causing trouble for Fred. At least he was finally free from me.

I started at this thought. No, he could never be free from me truly. Teachers, friends, classmates, strangers: they all forced us together… forced him to my side against his will. Angelina was right. He is so much better without me. Seeing him away from me made me see that. He doesn't need me.

Nobody needs me. Nobody _wants_ me. I am only the clone, the carbon copy. It's as Angeline said, who would want a copy when they could have the original. I am just a waste of space. Everything that I am, Fred is ten times better. So why am I even here?

I slowly brought my tear-streaked face from my knees and looked out at the grounds and pondered. Why? Why am I here suffering when I know how much easier it would be for everyone if I _wasn't_ here. Mum would have one less mouth to feed, and it would be less of a financial burden for Dad. Bill and Charlie weren't around enough nowadays to really miss me, if they even would, and Percy would be over the moon if he knew I wasn't around to bother him. Ginny… might miss me a tad, as she had come to talk with me about things she wouldn't feel talking to the other's about. Whether it was about Harry, her friends, school or her recovery from last year, I was always open to talk to and would listen and keep anything she said to me a secret, even from Fred. But I saw her with her friends walking to Hogsmeade today. I know she would be fine. It just might take a couple days while she found someone else to talk to. Ron wouldn't even bat an eye and would finally not have to try and tell Fred and I apart, and Fred… and Fred has Angelina and all of our friends and family to be there for him. He might not even realize I was gone.

The rain picked up a bit and started pelting the ground, almost as though it was encouraging my thoughts. I didn't need to be suffering. No one needed to know that I suffered either. I should just get it over with. I looked out at the pitch and shakily got to my feet. No one is here at the castle right now to see this, everyone is at Hogsmeade. There is no one to stop me. _Not that they would_ , I thought bitterly, a sardonic smile tilted my lips.

I rose to my full height in the tall, arched window, my smile gone with a sad frown taking its place and tears continued to trail off my face and onto my- I mean, Fred's uniform shirt. I brought my gaze down to the ground as I reached above to grab the sill and steady myself. It was so far below, I was lucky that quidditch had cured my fear of heights. I wondered briefly if hitting the ground that far below would hurt, before I realized that it wouldn't matter. No point in leaving a note, who would care enough to read it. I paused. Maybe a small note. A general note, something that covers everything I wanted to say to everyone who met me. I reached into my pocket and withdrew a quill and a scrap of paper I had been jotting joke ideas on and turned the paper over, sprawling onto the paper all that I had to say: _I'm sorry._

With that, I scribbled out the joke ideas, and returned the paper and quill to my pocket. I reached back to the sill, taking a step so that I was on the edge with my toes barely hanging off, and looked down at the ground, and back up once more. I took in the clouds, the rain, the pitch… Everything that had once comforted me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. Letting go of the sill, I brought my arms out to my sides and leaned forward, giving in to the pull of gravity and felt myself falling.

 _I'm sorry._


End file.
